


in the net

by babblesmarie



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, College Hockey, F/M, Gen, Hockey AU, M/M, Multi, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babblesmarie/pseuds/babblesmarie
Summary: Adam made it, that's what he tells himself. Far from Henrietta, free from his old life. He made it, and now he has to balance his academics, his weird new hockey team, and the pressure to keep his past under wraps.





	1. Chapter 1

Adam stood in front of his dorm hall, head tipped back, taking in the warm sunshine on his face. He clutched his tattered duffel bag tightly in one hand. So many people bustled around him that he felt a little self-conscious standing in place. He just needed a moment to bask in the blatant reality of it all. He was in college, not paying a dime out of his own pocket for anything except for his books. He was free.

Or as free as he's ever been, not having known he could feel as weightless and unshackled as he felt in that moment.

The first step was subconscious but soon Adam's feet were carrying him into the building and up the stairs to his new room. He managed to swing a two-person efficiency apartment, meaning he had his own little kitchen and bathroom. Part of him was relieved even if it seemed like an unnecessary extravagance, but he was in the habit of _not_ looking gift horses in the mouth.

Adam's roommate had clearly been there already by the look of the boxes and brightly colored clothes littering one side of the room. Two desks sat side by side in front of the sole window, the one closest to the occupied bed already covered in books and what looked to be a snowglobe.

Adam's solitary duffel bag looked twice as pathetic in comparison. Still, he sat on the edge of the bed and unpacked his things with as much care as he took in packing them. His clothes took up most of the bag, surprisingly enough. A couple pairs of jeans lined the bottom, followed by a new pair of slacks, a crisp dress shirt, a towel, and finally his t-shirts. Adam was careful not to put his shirts anywhere near his slacks or button up.

The duffel deflated considerably once Adam stashed away his clothes. All that remained was a set of work out clothes, two of his favorite novels, a meager bag of toiletries, and a cheap flip phone and charger.

Adam organized his side of the room but that only made it look more barren. He didn't have time to purposefully arrange _Pride and Prejudice_ and _The Hobbit_ to cover more of his desk before the door opened with a crash that had Adam flinching away from the sound. A little blond head peeked out above a cardboard box, identical to the ones all over the other side of the room. The stranger let the box fall with a crash, leaving Adam's one good ear ringing painfully.

The stranger finally noticed Adam, a wide smile creeping onto his face. He looked impossibly young with his pale hair and startling blue eyes. Adam wondered briefly if maybe he was one of those child prodigies.

“Hi,” the stranger said. He walked forward with a lazy grace that hardly matched his exuberant smile. “I'm Noah, your roommate.”

Adam shook Noah's proffered hand, a little shocked by how cold the other boy was when the weather outside barely dipped below ninety degrees this time of year.

“Adam Parrish. Nice to meet you.”

Noah looked around the room, his nose wrinkling at the sight of his own mess. He started pulling things off the floor and flinging them onto the bed as if to make more space.

“Do you have anything you need help bringing up?”

Adam pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No, I'm fine.”

Noah turned to face him, hands on his hips. “Don't let my size fool you. I'm a hockey player with muscles of steel.”

Adam shook his head again, smiling despite himself. Noah wasn't someone he could get mad at. Yet. “I don't doubt that, this is all I have.”

Noah's smile never wavered for which Adam was grateful. He simply shrugged. “Cool, dude.”

Noah went back to fussing over his things yet he never seemed to actually put anything away.

“You said you play hockey, right? Was that a joke or are you on the team here?”

Noah perked up. He looked perfectly happy to abandon his things and sit right down on Adam's bed. Adam momentarily cursed himself for not bringing sheets or a blanket or a decorative pillow or _something._

“This is my second year on the team,” Noah said. “Why'd you wanna know?”

“Oh, just because I'm actually on the team too. Starting tomorrow, officially.”

“Oh my god, that is so cool.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I've been trying to get one of the other guys to room with me but they're all jackasses.”

Noah must have seen the worried expression on Adam's face because he quickly amended, “They're not really jackasses—well some _are—_ they just don't want to live with me.”

“Ouch,” Adam said.

“It's not so bad. Our captain, Gansey, he got the C just last year. He's a sophomore like me so a couple of the older guys are touchy that they didn't get picked. Oh, and one of my best friends is actually starting this year, too.”

“Really?” Adam asked. Despite his one word answers he was actually interested to hear what Noah had to say about their teammates. It was just hard for him to find a word in edge-wise.

“Oh, yeah. Now _he,_ he is kind of an asshole but once you warm up to each other he's a real sweetheart.”

“Is everyone going to be here tonight?”

“Yep, I'm meeting them in the cafeteria. Oh. You should join us. It'll be great, I think there's burgers.”

Adam smiled and nodded, content to sit and listen to Noah.

* * *

By the time dinner rolled around Noah had packed away a handful of shirts and his textbooks which Adam came to understand was a major accomplishment. Adam pocketed his phone, ID, and keys before he let Noah steer him all the way to the dining hall.

Noah talked about the team as they waited in line. Adam was only half listening as part of his brain worried about something going wrong. He'd had too many unpleasant experiences with cafeterias to be completely comfortable. It wasn't until he had his food and picked a table far away from everyone else before he let himself relax.

Adam hadn't been sitting down for a full minute before Noah shot out of his seat and waved a group of people over.

In the middle was a boy who looked like a model out of a rich person's clothing catalog. He wore the ugliest combination of a baby blue polo and baby pink shorts, completed by the boat shoes and calf high socks.

The boy to the right was easily the most fashionable of the three in a simple purple button down and dark blue jeans. He walked arm-in-arm with the Eyesore Boy, a phone pressed almost to his nose.

The last of the boys was every parent's nightmare. His boots trailed mud and dirt across the linoleum despite there having been no rain, his jeans ripped at the knees, his black tank top revealing a hint of tattoo over his shoulder.

Whatever power brought those three together must truly be a miracle because the last boy looked like he could beat up the other two without a problem. The fashionable one looked like he would sue without blinking an eye, and the last boy—well he looked like the kind of guy who never got mad, just disappointed.

Noah didn't seem to see anything wrong with any of them because he leaped forward and wrapped his arms around them all. Adam worried that the last boy would do something mean to the kid but surprisingly enough he hugged Noah back and ruffled his hair.

“Okay everyone, this is Adam, my new roommate and one of the newer additions to our team. Adam, this is Ronan, Gansey, and Henry.”

Gansey, the eyesore, was the first to shake Adam's hand. “Welcome. I'm the captain this year so if you have any questions at all don't hesitate to ask.”

Adam nodded.

Henry, the fashionable one, handed Gansey his phone and leaned in for a handshake as well. “Henry Cheng,” he introduced himself. “Entrepreneur, engineer, adventurer, and one hell of a winger.”

“Left or right?” Adam asked.

“Left. What do you play?”

“Right wing.”

Henry grinned. “Awesome.”

Adam turned to the last boy—Ronan—and offered a professional smile. Ronan raised his eyebrows and pointedly kept his hands shoved into his back pockets.

“Pleasure to meet y'all,” Adam said anyway, speaking directly to Ronan, who huffed and stalked over to presumably find food. Henry did the same, which left Gansey to sit next to Noah, Henry's phone still in his hand.

“I looked over the tapes you sent in, Adam. You're pretty impressive.”

Adam's ears burned but he shrugged. “Good enough for this place.”

Gansey hummed. “I've got a couple of guys vying for first line but the coaches want to wait until after a couple practices before they make their final decisions. I'm not guaranteeing anything but you're looking pretty good for my right wing.”

“If Henry is a left winger and I'm a right, I suppose that makes you the starting center.”

“Yes, indeed. Coaches are keeping Noah, Henry, and I starting this year but everything else is getting switched around.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, some of the guys aren't too happy about it but we need to be on top of our game this season.”

“Don't you need to be on top of your game every season?”

Gansey grinned brilliantly, flashing his too-white, too-straight teeth. “We do. After last year though we really need to kick it into gear.”

“You almost made it to the Frozen Four, right?”

“That we did,” Henry said. He plopped down with as much grace as possible into the seat beside Gansey. “Missed it by a single game.”

Adam nodded. Hockey wasn't much of a thing down south but once Adam had been accepted for an athletic scholarship he'd watched countless games on the public library computers and read up on anything he could get his hands on. His high school hockey team was brand new and entirely experimental. Most of the guys who tried out had never stepped foot on ice before.

Ronan came back shortly after Henry did. He hesitated at the end of the table for a moment. Adam watched his gaze flick between the empty seat next to Henry and the one next to him. Ronan's gaze met his for less than half a second before he, too, plopped down in his seat, though with far less grace than Henry.

The conversation about hockey continued but the sophomores were recounting to each other the tales of their previous season, leaving Adam and Ronan to listen. Adam found his eyes drifting more and more to the side, resting on Ronan, studying him. Up close Adam could see the delicate curve of his eyelashes and the sharp line of his mouth. He watched as Ronan picked at his food and tore it to pieces before eating it. The motion drew attention to the harsh scars running parallel to the stark blue veins of Ronan's forearms.

Adam focused on the conversation before him, then, not wanting to get caught staring. Noah had seemingly turned the conversation to the NHL, something Adam knew more about and something Ronan wanted his opinion heard on.

“Fuck the Eastern Conference, man.”

“Here we go again,” Noah said, not unkindly.

“I'm just saying, all we ever hear about is Penguins this and Rangers that.”

“Don't get him started on the Bruins,” Gansey joked.

“Fuck the Bruins,” Noah said at the same time Ronan said, “The Bruins can take it up the ass for all I care."

“Ronan,” Gansey said. It sounded like a warning.

“What? It's not homophobic if a gay guy says it.”

“I don't think it works that way,” Noah said.

Ronan snorted. “Okay, okay. Whatever.”

Adam turned to face Ronan. “What do you have against the Bruins? We're _in_ Boston right now.”

“So? It's not like I was born here. I have no loyalty to them.”

“Is there no NHL team from your hometown?” Adam asked.

“Nope. Washington Capitals was the closest.”

“Are you loyal to them, then?”

“Fuck no. Didn't I just say fuck the Eastern Conference?”

Adam shrugged. “Personally, I'm a fan of the Sharks.”

Adam had never been into professional hockey but after his summer of research he found that he had a little soft spot for the San Jose team.

“Sharks aren't so bad,” Ronan admitted. It sounded like a peace offering.

 

* * *

 

When Adam woke in the middle of the night, his sleep addled brain came to the conclusion that Noah was being murdered in his sleep. Upon further observation there was no one else in the room but Noah babbled and thrashed about in his bed.

Adam jumped to his feet and stepped carefully over to the other boy's bed. He crouched down and took a deep breath before he patted Noah's shoulder, his head, his arm. He knew better than to wake someone up if they were having a nightmare and he knew _never_ to shake the person, but it was much harder to watch than Adam had thought it would be.

After a long time of patting and mumbling nonsense Noah quieted down and Adam slumped onto the floor. The moonlight coming in from the uncovered window illuminated the tear tracks on his new friend's face, breaking Adam's heart only slightly. He crawled back into his bed, more awake than he needed to be. Adam closed his eyes and hoped he could actually fall back asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Adam was only a little worried about his first day on the ice with the rest of the guys. After spending dinner with Noah's group he felt like he'd at least have someone by his side through the whole thing. He and Noah dragged themselves out of bed at seven and managed to find Noah's coffee maker and mismatched mugs before they had to be at the rink.

Now, partially energized and slightly anxious, Adam walked into the dressing room for the first time. It was considerably bigger than the one his high school had managed to build, each stall wide enough to fit three people shoulder to shoulder.

Adam found his own stall with his name and jersey hanging above it like an omen, a threat to perform perfectly. He ran his hand over the jersey, stooping down to pull his new skates and gear out to examine them. It was all brand new, something Adam couldn't ever hope to afford. He shoved his gear to the back of his stall and pulled his jersey off the hanger so he could sit without it smacking him in the face.

The rest of the team filed in but Adam only saw a few familiar faces. Gansey and Henry were the next to show up, arm-in-arm. They separated into their own stalls and waited patiently for the rest. Ronan was the last to show, slamming the door behind him and alerting everyone in the room to his presence. He slouched in his stall, though Adam expected no less.

One of the connecting office doors opened to reveal who Adam assumed to be the coaches and a short girl in oddly colored clothes. Adam didn't have time to be confused because one of the coaches had started speaking.

“Welcome back boys,” he said. “I'm Coach Meyers and this is Coach Holtz for those of you who don't know us and this is your team manager, Blue Sargent.”

Some of the boys whistled their appreciation but were quickly shot down by the sophomores. Henry wrinkled his nose. “The youth of today, ladies and gentlemen.”

Blue stood her ground, admirably so in Adam's opinion. “For those of you who are new here, the number one reason why _that,_ ” she waved in the offending group's vicinity, “is a bad idea is because with one word to the coaches and you boys will be skating suicides until your feet fall off. Got it?”

There were mumbles of “got it” once it became clear that the coaches would back Blue up in a heartbeat. Blue passed out a stack of papers and once everyone had one she said, “Fill these out neatly and put them in the office when you're done. If you don't sign and put in all the necessary information you will _not_ be able to play a game until you do. Yes, you still need to fill them out even if you were here last year.”

The papers were nothing more than waivers and medical references. Adam cringed as he filled them out because _no_ he didn't have insurance and _no_ he didn't have a regular physician and _no_ he didn't have any emergency contacts. He sighed and walked over to where Blue was having a cheery conversation with Henry, clearing his throat to get her attention.

“Hi, I'm Adam Parrish. I have a question about one of the forms.”

Blue offered him a small smile. “Lay it on me.”

Adam looked subtly between her and Henry before asking, “Um, could we do this in private?”

Blue's smile dropped but she nodded over to the office.

“So, Adam, right? You had a question?”

“Yeah, uh, I don't have any emergency contacts.”

“None?” Blue asked. “Not your parents or a family friend?”

Adam only shook his head, trying not to make it too awkward. Blue watched him for a minute before smiling again, if a little sad. Adam held his breath and waited for the questions that were bound to follow.

“I guess we can put me down, then,” Blue said, surprising Adam. She took the form from his hands and filled out her information. Adam hoped she wouldn't look at the rest of the paper but she simply stuck it in a tray on the desk, face down.

Out in the locker room some of the boys were already slapping down papers and pens so they could stretch. Blue reminded them that the papers needed to go in the office and one by one half the guys in the room groaned and got to their feet.

“Damn jocks can play hockey for hours but not walk five feet to the office?” Blue asked.

Adam shrugged and made his way back to his stall. He'd never considered himself a jock, especially not a hockey jock. He didn't live and breathe hockey, he wasn't born on the ice. Hockey was a means to an end for him. He would have preferred to get into college on an academic scholarship but the athletics department simply had a better offer.

Adam warmed up in silence. He stretched his legs and his back and his arms until he was loose and pliant. He'd even dropped to the floor for a handful of push ups. The other guys began their warm ups as well, all but Ronan, who sat staunchly in his stall.

The coaches hollered for everyone to suit up and get out on the ice. Adam wasted no time, slipping into his gear piece by piece. He finished quickly, only the third guy on the ice. He followed Gansey and a tall redhead out to the rink. Gansey brushed up next to him, his smile and dimpled chin inviting enough to make Adam cautious.

“Take a lap with me, just real quick.”

Adam followed Gansey, skating alongside him in silence. Adam felt as though he was being tested as Gansey gradually sped up until the two of them were nearly racing around the rink with the others watched from center ice.

Gansey skid to a halt, snow covering his skates. Adam was proud of the sweat matting the hair at Gansey's temples. A couple of guys whistled and clapped, at which Adam was more bashful than anything.

Gansey grinned his perfect grin, his crisp voice rising to be heard across the ice. “I need you all to be like Adam this season. I need you to be fast, but I need you to also push yourselves. This is the year we get back into the Frozen Four and win it.”

Gansey didn't say it as so much an encouragement as he did a statement. He wasn't suggesting that the boys do as he said, he commanded it. As Adam looked over the team, ears pink, he could see that they all understood that as well. Even those who supposedly resented Gansey's captaincy had seemed to put aside their feelings and looked earnest as they watched him speak.

Adam didn't know Gansey, but he could tell clear as day that there was more to him than regrettable fashion choices and perfect hair. There was an aura that surrounded him, something unique and mystifying.

That aura followed Adam throughout practice, clinging to his jersey and skates. He practiced as Gansey's wing, then with last year's second and third lines. Gansey and Henry were aggressive and fast, challenging Adam that much more. Sweat made the inside of his helmet unbearably uncomfortable, trickling down his neck in a way that set his nerves alight. Gansey merely had to look at Adam and he knew what to do, where to go. There was an unspoken connection, instantaneous and comforting.

Ronan worked his way up, practicing with the third and second lines before Gansey called him to first. There was a brief conversation between the two, followed by a nearly wicked smile on Gansey's face, one that seemed stolen from Ronan himself.

Adam hadn't paid much attention to Ronan on the ice, having focused on keeping himself at Gansey's right. As the play dragged on, Adam noticed that Ronan was entirely stoic, almost zen as he and Noah were teamed up on the blue line. They danced around each other, almost effortless. Like Adam and Gansey, Noah and Ronan hardly had to say a word.

A whistle signaled the end of practice and everyone came to a stop. Blue skated out with the coaches, clipboard in hand. Adam stood quietly as they ranked and discussed the players, starting with their picks for third line. Adam waited for his name or even Ronan's to be called, but they hadn't been. Some of the guys grumbled but most of the third line was freshmen, content to just be on the team.

The coaches talked more about what Gansey had said, about their goal of not only reaching, but winning the Frozen Four. Coach Holtz reminded the team that second and third lines weren't punishment, and there was always room for improvement. That the second and third lines needed to be just as focused as the first line.

They called out the names for the second line and Adam still didn't hear his name. He turned his good ear slightly more towards the coaches in case he had missed something.

Blue skated forward, a grin on her face. Adam felt a nudge to his side, Noah gleaming bright. He swallowed.

“Our first line will be: Tad Carruthers, goal; Richard Campbell Gansey III, center; Henry Cheng and Adam Parrish, left and right wing; Noah Czerny and Ronan Lynch, defense.”

Adam breathed out a sigh, his face twitching into something resembling a smile. Noah whooped and Gansey and Henry flashed their smiles. Only Ronan was silent. Adam didn't think he was unhappy that he had made first line, but that it hadn't mattered to him either way. It frustrated Adam, in a way, to think that someone could care so little.

There were some unpleasant faces on the ice, and a few boys asked to speak with the coaches, but Adam paid them no mind. Noah slung an arm around his shoulders and suggested to the group at large that they get frozen yogurt. Blue was the first to take the offer, followed by Gansey and Henry. Adam didn't have the money to spend on frivolous things like yogurt, but Noah gave him little choice as they were still attached.

Ronan again was passive, but followed the group in silence, hands in his pockets. Carruthers, the goalie, hadn't joined, nor had anyone else on the team. It occurred to Adam that maybe the team didn't socialize all together, but maybe there were cliques and set lines on who hung out with whom.

Adam hadn't the patience for socialization in large groups, barely having had any friends throughout his childhood. In fact, if he were pressed to admit it, he'd never had any friends that lasted longer than a year or that mattered enough to keep in touch with.

Adam didn't eat anything at the yogurt shop, explaining that he wasn't hungry. Noah gave him a look, knowing that he hadn't eaten anything that morning either, being in such a rush to get down to the rink. Adam just wanted to head back to the cafeteria where his ID was all the payment he needed.

Adam observed the group, analyzing each person and his own place within the pack. They didn't seem to all fit together, Ronan and Blue being of their own stand-offish branches and Gansey and Henry looking like they oozed emeralds and gold. Noah struck Adam as the only wholly normal one in his tee shirt and boy next door face.

Despite the differences in the group they more or less _acted_ like they belonged together. Ronan said very little, and of what he did say none of it sounded positive. Every word was practically insulting or criminal, but if that mattered to the group they didn't let it show. He and Blue glared often, and Adam couldn't tell whether or not they hated each other.

Gansey seemed the most split of them, having some personal conversation with them all. Asking after Noah's sister, some campaign of Henry's, of Blue's activism. With Ronan there was some tension, lingering in their shoulders, unsprung.

They didn't linger long in the shop. Ronan had no patience left, it seemed, and stole Noah away from the group, leaving Adam without an ally or reason to stay. He excused himself from the table, only for Blue to catch up with him before he could leave.

“I've got some books to buy,” Blue said. “Mind if I walk with you?”

Adam did not mind, though his stomach grumbled as they walked and he tried to hide the red on his cheeks. To his surprise and relief, Blue said nothing except, “Wanna stop by the cafeteria? I wanna see if they have yogurt.”

“Didn't you just eat yogurt?” Adam asked.

“Only a little. Besides, nothing beats food that doesn't automatically come out of your wallet.”

Adam nodded in agreement. The cafeteria, the library, and the bookstore were all in the same campus neighborhood. The pair ducked into the cafeteria just as most of the students were leaving, having some club to attend or books to buy or practices to go to. Adam was glad for the relative emptiness of the cafeteria as he swiped his ID, as if a horn would blow at the deduction from his account. He loaded a moderate amount of food onto a tray as Blue pondered the yogurt options.

Adam hovered until Blue was ready. He had picked out an ideal window table in the far corner of the room.

“How are you liking the team so far?” Blue asked. She had already ripped open the foil on her yogurt and dug in before she sat.

Adam shrugged, unwrapping his sandwich. “Noah's nice.”

“Isn't he?”

There wasn't much else Adam had to say and he felt his face growing hotter. Blue had enough of an accent that sounded so familiar it sent a pang of hurt into his chest. She sat with her elbows firmly on the table, a habit that Adam had been quickly forced to abandon in his younger years.

Adam and Blue ate in silence; Adam watching the birds hopping about on the other side of the window, Blue watching Adam. It wasn't an entirely uncomfortable kind of look, but Adam feared that she would find all of his flaws if she looked much longer.

“Want to head to the bookstore with me or are you about ready to go home?” Blue's vowels dipped and her consonants softened. Adam's throat constricted because everything about this girl screamed Henrietta, Virginia. A place he still couldn't shake. Still, he swallowed the last of his sandwich and juice and followed her out of the cafeteria.

Blue had only a single book to buy, but she lingered by a few sections, running her fingers along the spines as she went.

“Do you like to read?” Adam asked.

“Not really. I—let's just say that I'm not satisfied with what I learned in my classes last year.”

Adam made a face like a question, a polite purse of his lips and a stagger to his eyebrows.

“I'm glad to be here, lucky, even,” Blue said. “But it isn't what I thought it would be. I thought I would be learning, more, somehow. Learning to make a difference.”

Adam didn't know how to respond, because college was always his goal. He didn't know what it meant to _learn to make a difference._ Not in the way he thought Blue meant. From their short time together he gathered that while Blue wasn't naïve, she was an idealist in the purest form. She wanted to save the world and Adam only wanted to save himself.

“If it helps, if anyone can make a difference it'll be you.”

Blue ducked her head with a _pshaw_ that cut Adam to his soul. He found himself smiling, however.

The price of Blue's _one_ book made both her and Adam grimace but she handed over the money and clutched her new purchase to her chest. Blue had a few more things to do but she released Adam with a small smile and her number stored in his outdated flip phone.

“Since, you know, I'm your emergency contact and all.”

Adam walked back to his dorm, taking a moment for himself along the way. He took a deep breath and slowed his pace. He thought, despite Blue, that maybe he truly would be able to forget who he was before, where he came from. He wasn't where he wanted to be, but perhaps he was in the beginning of a change, a blank slate for him to build a new version of himself, someone he _wanted_ to be, someone Henrietta, Virginia and all its residents would loathe to have mistreated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! [histrionicdaisy.tumblr.com](https://www.histrionicdaisy.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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